


The Woman and the Wolf

by lmdee, meridian_rose (meridianrose)



Category: Fairy Tales & Related Fandoms
Genre: Community: hc_bingo, F/M, Fairy Tale Curses, Fairy Tale Elements, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 18:57:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13817406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lmdee/pseuds/lmdee, https://archiveofourown.org/users/meridianrose/pseuds/meridian_rose
Summary: A woman frees a wolf from a trap, and is later approached by a man with a wound on his leg...she begins to fall in love, but there may be no hope for their relationship, for he is under a curse.





	The Woman and the Wolf

Once upon a time there was a woman who lived alone in a little cottage, deep within the woods.

One year the winter was particularly harsh, cold even when there was no snow, the trees losing their leaves early, the ground frozen hard.

The woman went out each day to collect extra firewood and fresh water, sometimes picking late berries or taking vegetables from her garden. She'd made jam, she'd stored apples, she had meat hanging in her larder, but freshly picked berries and newly dug carrots tasted delicious.

One day she went out on a longer walk, for despite the chill the sun was shining. She wrapped her woollen cloak around her shoulders and took a basket with her, hoping to find some mushrooms.

The woods were quiet except for the occasional skittering of squirrels darting about the trees or the call of a crow. The woman could see her breath in the still air and she wished she had worn her thickest gloves, but they had been washed and were still drying by the fire.

The path she was following turned around a stand of particularly thick tree trunks and she concentrated on the ground, with its protruding roots and loose rocks, not wanting to risk a tumble. When she looked up again, she spotted something beneath a nearby bush, a tangle of grey fur.

As she approached she saw that it was no rabbit but a wolf. Even as she stilled, the wolf lifted its weary head. One eye was blue, the other brown. The wolf's tail lifted and fell just once, pulling the woman's gaze to a metal trap. One back leg was caught in the sharp teeth, blood matted around the wolf's leg.

The wolf might have been here for hours or days, cold and hungry. The woman felt pity for the creature, a magnificent looking beast surely when not laid low like this. Despite her fear she took a few steps forward. The wolf eyed her but did not snarl or make any movement.

She moved to the side of the path, searching for a sturdy branch. With care she moved close to the wolf, who still lay unmoving, watching her and panting a little.

The woman pried open the trap. The wolf gave a whimper and dragged itself free. Woman and wolf moved in opposite directions, both cautious.

"That's my good deed for the day," the woman said. "Be on your way." She walked backwards, reaching out with one hand to trail her fingertips against the tree trunks to find her way. Only as she rounded the bend once more did she turn her back and head towards her cottage.

*

That night a snowstorm moved in, the wind howling around the chimney and making the flames gutter in the fireplace. The woman sat sewing, absorbed in her task. A knock at the door made her pause, and a frown creased her brow.

She put aside the material and took up a candle in a heavy candlestick that could double as a weapon if required. She unbolted the door and opened it just a crack.

Outside a man stood, shivering in the snow. "Do you have a barn I can shelter in?" he asked through chattering teeth.

She nodded then, taking pity on him, and hoping she would not regret showing further kindness, "Come inside and sit by the fire."

He limped past her into the warm room. His rough linen shirt was ill suited for the harsh weather, his worn trousers were dirty and one leg was dappled with blood. He pulled a wooden dining chair close to the fire and held out his hands to the flames, giving a sight of contentment.

"Thank you," he said.

"It is no night to be outside," she said.

He glanced over at her, gave a wry smile. His skin was olive, his hair long, dark and tangled, but it was his eyes that startled her, one blue and one brown. She clutched the candlestick tighter.

"The gods reward hospitality," he said, and returned his attention to the flames.

The woman put down the candlestick and returned to her sewing but her gaze kept returning to the bloodstains. "You're hurt."

"A little."

She put aside the sewing once more, took water from the cauldron over the fire, found scraps of linen, and crouched at his side. "Show me."

The wound near his ankle was fresh and ugly, a series of jagged marks much like the teeth of a trap. She bathed it, the man hissing and biting down on his lip as she worked, but soon enough the injury was clean and bound.

"Let me get you something to eat," she said. He opened his mouth to protest but then nodded. She fetched him bread, cheese, and an apple. She watched him wolf down the food while she made them both hot tea.

"You are a kind woman," he said. "The storm is abating. I should go."

She took him to the barn rather than send him out into the cold night. The next morning he was gone.

*

It was two days before he returned, his clothes a little cleaner and hair a little neater, as if he'd bathed in the nearby stream. He brought with him a handful of nuts and a single rose.

"To thank you properly," he said.

"How is your leg?"

"Much improved."

She smiled. "Come in. I'm making stew and there's plenty."

*

Many nights he came to visit and they talked, becoming friends. She looked forward to his visits and while she provided the food, he always brought her some small gift from the forest. He always went to the barn to sleep and was always gone by morning.

Despite their conversations he would not talk of his home, his past.

It had not escaped her attention, after two months, that he never visited during the full moon.

Winter lingered, outstaying her welcome, but snowdrops pushed their way forth through patches of snow, defiant crocuses soon following. Spring would come soon, though snow still came often.

It was the third night of the full moon after another snowstorm when the woman went to the barn for supplies and saw the wolf sleeping amongst the straw. She closed the door and went back to the cottage, thoughtful.

*

When the man next visited, the woman said, "I have lived alone many years and I am glad of your company. I have learnt to overcome most of my fears. The dark does not frighten me. Wolves do not fill me with terror."

He stared at her with his mismatched eyes. "I know."

"Is there something you wish to tell me?"

"There is nothing I can say."

Magic, then, as she'd thought. "Is there nothing to be done?"

He shook his head.

"Even if," and she hesitated, "even if I love you?"

His mouth dropped open. "Oh, my love."

She moved to kiss him, hoping her lips on his might break the spell. There were stories of such happenings. But while the kiss was affectionate when she drew back he gave a sad smile.

"I cannot be the man you want or need or deserve." He got up and left without finishing his meal.

*

Three days later the woman was tending her garden when he returned.

"I would ask something of you," he said. "Before spring arrives."

She rubbed her hands on her apron. "Ask it."

"You must swear to me that you will do what I ask. Swear by the gods your people swear by."

She frowned. "I swear it."

His shoulders slumped, and he exhaled. "Then you must build a pyre," he said. "Before the next full moon, a pyre with a stake in the midst of it."

"And what will I do with such a pyre?"

"You will tie me to it and set the pyre ablaze."

She stared at him in horror. "That is the most awful thing I have ever heard!"

"You swore you could do as I asked!" He fell to his knees. "Please. I have wandered this wood for almost a year, trapped and hungry and cold. End it. I beg of you. There are worse fates than death."

She turned away so he could not see her tears. When she looked back, he was gone.

*

She'd made a promise and after a sleepless night she sorted through the wood in the barn, choosing the sturdiest logs. She constructed the pyre, hoping the weather stayed dry while also hoping it would snow and make the wood too damp to burn.

That night he came to the door and she was waiting, candle in hand.

"Thank you," he said.

She tied him to the stake, binding his hands behind him. She pressed her lips to his forehead. She stepped back and touched a candle to the kindling.

The fire caught alight quickly, the flames licking around his ankles. He closed his eyes, the smoke filling the air around the cottage. She looked away, unable to bear the sight, awaiting his screams as the fire took his life and ended whatever curse had befallen him.

"My love."

She turned. The pyre had burned completely, the rope gone, but the man she loved was still alive, unharmed.

"How?" she asked, running to him.

He clasped her tightly against him. "The only way to end the curse," he said. "To kill it with flame. By the next full moon I would have been trapped as a wolf forever. Only one who showed such kindness as you did, who could bear to end my suffering, only they could help me. You have saved me, my love."

"It is lucky I am not afraid of wolves," she teased.

He kissed her. "Lucky indeed," he said.

And they lived happily ever after.

**Author's Note:**

> For the hc-bingo amnesty prompts  
> fire, cursed, comfort food or item/feeding someone, harsh climate  
> Based on fairy tale elements in particular from Snow White & Rose Red, and The Frog Prince.


End file.
